
PS 3537 
.U5 S6 
1920 
Copy 1 



ofB^tii^lj^-i' 



)rJ^j3^U9§^^ 



H9 






Price $2.00 net. 




^he Qlad fyed Imp. 



Christians, Hebrews 

All Nations, All Creeds, Agree: - 

Son of Bath-she-ba 

[With the spectral appearances of the MAN FROM GOD.] 

The 

''Most Astounding Drama 

Of All Generations!" vide press. 

with 

ECHOES OF EVENING BELLS, LUSITANIA, 

etc., etc. 

HUMOROUS SUPPLEMENT— BALLADS 
OF US FELLERS, No. 2. 
By 
Vincent P. Sullivan. 

Copyright 1920 

New York TREND Publishing Co. 

652 39th Street, to 659 40th Street, 

Brookh^n, New York 



oln loll lE. at (Bttnnmt\\ Hiikx^t 

Oh! For an Aerial Attic where the sun 
Shines — in at every angle! roofed with glass! 
A dome of perfect crystal,— where not one 
Of censuring earthly eyes will dare trespass. 



Lately we learn— lost in the great New York 
A Latin Quarter, Greenwich Village called, 
Hath such strange Attics 'mid her mazy street£ 
Where wights profess that, " That, That Is, 

Is Not! 
"'And all straight stuff is simply bunk and rot!' 

To YOU, come Nature's Gypsies with their art. 
And so we come to play a passing part. 
To you who best a tragic farce, divine, 
I DEDICATE this moody "child" of mine. 

V. P. S. 




<^^-y^r^. 



Son of 

BATHSHEBA 

the original 

Bathing Beauty 

(PAGE 15) 
Supplemented with 

Ballads of Us Fellers No. 2 

and 

Seven Illustrations 

by 

Vincent Philamon Sullivan 

COPYRIGHT 1920 



New York 
Trend Publishing Co, 






OTHER TREND BOOKS 

BY THE SAME WRITER 



The Warring World and She .... $1.5G^ 

A colorful novellette of chain-lightning events, combined 
with The V. P. S. Three-act Version of Antony and Cle- 
opatra (Prof. Hudson's Dream Realized). 



How Paddy AppHed For His Papers . . $.25 

Sketch for two males. Big feature of Happy howl book 
Ballads of Os Fellers No. 1. 



The Siren and the Roman $L0O 

A play full of flashy poetic glamour, of dazzling days,, 
of nights of nectar and lights and lights! 



JAN 26 1920 



ICI.A561612 



CONTENTS 

Page 

A Letter From the Author 5 

The Gunman's Vamp, (reminiscence of the 

old-time Tenderloin) 6 

If HE Should Speak Again 7 

Nobody's -Daughter :.. 8 

Time, (1918) the herald of peace 8 

Son of Bath-she-ba, a play in three acts 9 

•Stars and Men 37 

-Fallen Gods (Individuals can make or un- 
make any kind of Government) 37 

The Warden's Rhyme of the Czar's Last 

Night 38 

Lusitania, the grandest ocean queen, ten 

verses 40 

To Marie , 43 

To Laura : , 43 

To An Actor 44 

Himself and Life, the symbol of hope 44 

To A. E. D :; 45 

To My Mother 46 

Echoes of Evening Bells, the romance of 

Notre Dame 46 

You ( ?) 54 

Bank on the Grand Old Man 54 

Drink-up and Have Another, National bone- 
dry song 55 

Patter and Chatter 56 

More Rhyme than Reason 56 

"'Dum" Little of Either One 57 

Necker's Rival. (All Apologies to Chas. 

Lamb) 58 

Coney Island, Playground of the World 60 

The Strange Confession o£ N. A: E 61 

The Miracle of A Mother's Heart, A Fable 

in 3 parts 64 

4 



"'Professionals, Amateurs and Charity fVorli^er^^' 

The production of "Son of Bathsheba" is prohi- 
bited by the copyright low unless acting, rights, 
are obtained from the author. 



13AL"LADS OF US FELLERS No. ^ 

^(Acting rigJits zvaived in this deparhmn^t) 

THE GUNMAN'S "VAMP" 

Dark as a mine, in the Tenderloin 
On the very brink of perdition 

'Sat a crook on a chair, at a table bare 
And beside him, the female edition. 



Oh ! She is fair, and her impudent stare 

Had all the "pugs" on-the-pike, 
In teeth and eyes her beauty lies, 
But she is as tough as^ spike. 

Now, the gunman told as he flashed the gold. 

Of his hellish murdering mission 
And he flung a -share to the coosie, fair, 

For Loot is the Red Light ambition. 

THEN SHE LAUGHED LIKE A NIGHT- 
INGALE 

"AHA HA HA HA !" 
WHILE HER VOICE RAN THE SCALE OF 

HIGH C," 
THEN SHE KISSED HIM, CARESSED 

HIM, 
AND PIOUSLY BLESSED HIM 
BUT A DANGEROUS SAINT IS SHE. 

From a taxicab, came a voice, "Til stab !" 

And another in horror replied, 
*Tf you touch that loot, or that girl, I'LL 
SHOOT!" 
And a gunman groaned and died. 
* 

6 



Yes, tlie ride was short, and her pal was caught^. 
And he grimly wished that he could, 

"Be game enough to quit the game. 
When the game was going good !" 

As he passed her by, on his wa\- to die, 
He |)aused for a longing look, after, 

But she cried "Be damned !" and the window 
slambed, 
And she danced in a fiend-like laughter. 

AND SHE LAUGHED LIKE A SHE-DEVTL 

"AHA. HA, HA, HA, HA!" 
AND HER VOICE RAN THE SCALE OF 

HIGH, "C" 
WHILE SHE HISSED HIM AND CURSED' 

HIM 
AND DEAMO;N-LIKE HEARSED HIM 
IN A VAMPIRE'S VICTORY. 



THE REAL ROLTGH STUFF RHYMES 
FOR YOUNC; YANKS OF ALL AGES. 

Continued on page 54 

IF HE SHOULD SPEAK AGAIN 

If the God should speak again 
To his world of warring men. 

Shall he sav "Thev, thou shalt kill,"' 
Shall he say, "Be still, be still ! 

I kno\A' no nation, creed nor clan 
I only know, my handwork, MAN. 

I made the heavens, made the earth- 
I gave ye harmony at birth, — 

My world is wide, thou art not blind 
Seek love, and love ye sure shall find." 

7 




Ur. Sullivan Says:- 

Never, perhaps, in the history of 
books, has such a daring contrast of 
the sublimo and the ridiculous appear* 
od within a pair of covers, before. 

Rut the billboards of old show that 
Plamlet was served-up to hungry hearts 
at the Hay -market with a dash of bur- 
lesque for dessert, -such as the smash- 
ing, smock-rippiog, "Belles Have at Ye 
All! or mora Flirts Than One". History 
repeats itself here. We could have 
wished to extend "Ballads Of Us Fellers" 
but #3 will mora than make-up for the 
present brevity. "The Gunman's Vamp" 
will doubtless be the best liked of 
this number, with our bone dry song, 
"Drink-up and Have Another" as a close 
second. Ballad Buyers are like myself 
and the small boys they want their 
dessert first; so please see Uncle Sam's 
picture for Ballads of Us Fellers #2. 



(2) 



Soma years before the world war I put 
the script of a great ship's last 
voyage into the hands of a friend. 
His actual words after reading were:- 
"Good God! Sullivan, wharcj did you 
get that? Why that's a classic". "Out 
of the garret, (head) Jack", I re- 
plied, "at a forty-two hour' fitting". 
And this batne pre-war poem is the 
present "Fighting for Lusitania." That 
occupied a whole column in the Times, 
tiay 15, 1915, slightly revised with 
this notable omission:- 

Forward she plunged needing a 

friend's advice, 
Into an Artie avalanche of ice! 
That monstrous, moving mountain 

of the sea. 
As silent, spectral as a ghost 

might be. 

Wow anyone can guess that "Titanic" 
was the original name and strangest 
of all, it has been equally successful 
as a dramatic recitation, under both 
namest 



(3) 



If the writer, without vanity, might 
point-out some of the big moments of 
"Son of Bath-sheba", the scene in Act 
two, wherein David holds aloft the 
"scarlet" hand of Absalom and forgives 
him before the whole court, is a tense 
incident. And again the dethroned 
and barefooted king and his starving 
followers, Act three, and the remorse 
of the betrayer Archithopel, are to me 
fine bits of pathos. (Biblical accuracy 
is disclaimed) ^ 

We confess "The Warden *s Rhyme" is al- 
most entirely fictitious, and that the 
fable, "The lyiiracle of Mother Love" is 
grewsome, but both we feel, are re- 
deemed by the message they convey. 

All of you may not like all of the 
book, but surely some of you will like 
some of it, and so we leave you, dear 
friends to bring in your verdict. 



(4) 

The publishers invite your comment, 
and the author-artist promises you 
better pictures and poems, when we 
meet again, 

December 1, 1919. 

P.S. Some influence of Nathanial 
Willis Parker and the Abbe Sage 
Richardson is grsite fully acknowledged; 
to the former in "Son Of Bathsheba," 
and to the latter, in "Echoes Of 
Evening Bells." 



NOBODY'S DAUGHTER 
Nobody's daughter from no place came, 

Out of the g-rim, dim deep, 
Ah, Christ ! but the wind and the wave can maim 

A poor httle waif, in her last, last sleep. 

Driftwood on the seas of life. 

Lashed to a splintered spar 
She battled the storm and the raging strife 

Unto this sandy bar. 

Racked on the vast expance, perchance 

Where sea and sky seem one 
Where "mountains" rise and falling prance 

And seldom shines the sun. 

Nobody's daughter is somebody yet, 
Though she could not resist the tide; 

See ! her arm wears tlie ambered amulet : 
The gift of a prince to his bride! 

TIME— 1918 

W'hat fools are we that pray for peace 

For peace that knows no end 
Since time will have its war and peace, 

Though suit of saint, attend. 
For war there was and war here is. 

And war there still shall be 
And peace there was and peace will come 

W^hen time shall peace decree. 

Time and his peace are coming on 

The hour draweth nigh. 
Though we have rung a grim year out 

Let not the new slip by. 
Lest then a time for peace should pass 

And none shall count the years 
That man the clay incarnidines 

Yet time, shall have no ears. 



For we are but the Toys of Time, 

Who makes us love and hate, 
Who makes us murder, makes us mad, 

And sweeps us to our fate. 
Yet, Peace will come; the world will sing 

And some w^ith joy will die, 
If we but make this year our friend 

Before this Time slips by. 

January, lOlS 



Son of Bathsheba 

A play in three acts 

THE STORY : 

David, the founder of Judea, is infatuated with 
the bathing beauty, Bathsheba, wife of the poor 
Hethite, Uriah. He determines to secure her 
although he has inherited all the wives of Saul. 
So Uriah dies by David's ruse, "on the fighting 
line." 

A son, of wondrous beauty is born to David 
and Bathsheba, and the indulgent father s])ends 
hours idolizing the child. But at last, "the Man 
from God" appears with a sentence of death for 
the infant Absalom, the moment he reaches the 
age of man. 

Absalom, in his youth, has a sister, Tarma, 
famously fair, who w^as annoyed by the attentions 
of their step-brother Amnon. At length these 
attentions terminated in criminal assault and the 
infuriated Absalom failing to get redress from 
the king, revenged his dearest sister's wrong by 
setting a band of desperadoes on Amnon ; the 
heir-apparent and first born of the king, is slain. 

9 



Absalom has fled to S}Tea, and thoiio-K David' 
inwardly yearns for his return, he is maddened' 
at the mention of his name. 

After many Aears the general-in-chief inter- 
cedes for Absalom who is brought before the 
kino- and forgiven. But resentment is boiling 
in the breast of Absalom for the unjust banish- 
ment and he has secretly asseml)led the whole- 
nation in a rebellion, 

David flies from.' his throne and a terrific 
slaughtering takes place in the fields near by, 
but Absalom is defeated. 



The triumphant David returns and is about to* 
to slay his general-in-chief for not "keeping the 
young man safe" but the Man from God again 
appears explaining the mysterious death of 
Absalom. This Man from God ends the play 
with the glad predictions for the future of the 
infant Solomon, ''the Grand Monarch" whom 
the queen holds in her arms. 
10 



THE CAST OF CHARACTERS 
(as they first appear) 

JOSOPHAT, the Recorder 
SARARL\S, the Scribe. 

DAVID, King of Judea 

THE INFANT ABSALOM, his son 

NURSE, to the child. 

BATHSHEBA, the Queen. 

EUa, her maid. 

THE MAN FROM GOD, Nathan, 

VARIOUS INMATES of the Palace. 

THE WISE WOMAN of Gessuhr. 

JOAB, The King's General 

ETHIA, his captain. 

ABISAI, his captain. 

ABSALOM, the rebellious Prince. 

AMASA, his Ca])tain in the rebelHon. 

CHUSAI, the wise counsellor. 

ARCHITOPHEL, the foolish Oracle. 

A priest. 

A Survivor of the Late House of Saul. 

SIBA, the Fugitives' Friend. 

ELIA, Waiting on Bathsheba, 

THE INFANT SOLOMON. 

ISRAELITES. 

HORSEMEN, soldiers; servants. 

SCENE: Jerusalem and the banks of the river 
Jordan. 

11 



Son of Bathsheba 



the popular play 




"HOTEL ST. GEORGE, 

William tumbriogc. 

CL*lm.HICXS,HT«rr«PinEAM>L( STS. 

SI CLARK STREET, 
BROOKLYN HEIGHTS, NEW YORK 



^^^^^^^^fy 









[America's best Actor Mr. Robert B. Mantell] 



"BUT THOU NO MORE WILL COME." 



':?n4 




Ah, My Bathsheba, See ! The Son Thou Gavest Me. 



ACT ONE. 
The garden of King David's palace, Jeritsa- 
Icin; dawn is breaking; to the light rear, a flight 
of marble steps; to centre rear a fountain; enter 
JosapJiat and Sararins, meeting. 

Josophat 

Saraias ! God bless thee and this day ! 

Saraias 
And thou Josaphat. How beautiful the dawn I 
JOS. What news of wars How does the king 

in Raba? 
SAR. The king? Not so, my lord recoi'der. 
The mighty general Joab, goes forth, to war, 
But the King, no ; not he, Josophat. 
Since the new prince came, David\s a man of 

peace. 
JOS. The new prince? You mean Bathsheba's 

Babe ? 
SAR. Bathsheba's babe is all the world to him. 
JOS. What, is this David's son'^ 
I thought Bathsheba wife of Uriah. 

SAR. Sometime but not now ; 

Burning with love for beautious Bathseba, 

Thus wrote the king to Joab, his general : 

Set Uriah in front facing the foe 

For Uriah must die without delay ! 

JOS. No good can come from marriage such 

as this. 
SAR. I think so too, Josaphpat. Hush : 
^Tis now his kingly custom, HERE to walk 
Beneath the sky roof of this inner court ; 
Here, shut in from the world but not from 

from heaven 
He plays with the loved son by the fountain side. 
JOS. Who shall blame him? I hear the child's 

a wonder. , 

12 



'SAR. Nay, Josophat: 

It is idolatry, confessed alone 

To the rapt wires of rebukleless harx) — 

He loves this child of beautious Bathsheba ! 

The mfant Absalom, WITHIN: 'Fatherl 
Father!" King David IFITHIN: Dress him and 
■bring him here. 

Jo sap hat and Saraias retire. 

Enter, David with a scroll; lie seats Jiimsclf 
Ijy the fountain side. 

David (reading) 
Well done, well done, braxe Joab ! 
O that I led tliee in this charge of Anion ! 
But envious Rabbath shall soon know of me. 
Enter nurse with Absalom; He leaps lo the 
king's arms 

]3avid 
It is good to have vou with nic now, mv peerless 
boy ! 

Absalom 

Why, father? 

DAV. Last night 1 dreamed 1 hxst thee, Absalom, 

Dost thou hear? 

ABS. Don't dream father. 

DAV. Last night m\' son, 1 drew thee to my 

breast 
And drank thy beauty with a savage zest, 
Till my wild love did quite crush-out thv breath> 
And left me gazing on a child of death ! 
The rising sun did hnd staring still : 
A mad-man who had murdered gainst his will. 
ABS. Sleep like me, father. 
DAV. Then all at once, there came a MAN 

FROM GOD 
Who glared upon me with an angrv eye! — 
ABS. Father, sleep like mc. 

13 



DAV. And O, how could I kill thee 

No, No ! 'Twas but a dream, 

The child that I love, my aerial dove, 

Could never so hateful seem. 

ABS. Boy prince is sorry, father. 

DAV. I know it Absalom. Look at me, son: 

Those eyes, those eyes, again ! 

x\nd 0,'the most infathonable hue of those large 

eyes 
Send forth their light as twilight shows a star, 
Drawing the heart of the beholder in. 
Why wert thou born so beautiful and wise? 
ABS. To be like father David. 
DAV. For one so young, 
How regal is thine infantile regard ! 
And thine ripe lip is of the passionate mould 
The line and type of love. And this is like Bath- 

sheba. 
(rod bless thee, ah, God bless thee, prayer is poor, 
I can but crave His blessing more and more ! 
Now go, {Child riots to its approachiiuj mother) 
and my treasure, (iod kee]) thee, 
To Him alone do you nod, 
So chaste and so mild is this beautiful child 
This beautiful child of Crod. 

Enter BathsJieba, attended 
Beautious, bathing Bathsheba, 
Ah, my Bathsheba, see, 
The son thou gavest me ! 
What, art thou sad, my Queen ? Uriah 
Thy husband bravely died, hghting for — 

(falters) 
For Judea, for Judea's pride, my dear. 

(coughs ) 
Art thou not i)roud, Bathsheba? Come, come, be 
satisfied. 

Bathsheba 

14 



David, 1 am : Thou hast married me, 

Making thy humblest servant a great Queen, 

Of w^ordly goods thou hast been bountiful 

But David, dear, — 

DAV. Ah, my Bathsheba ! 

When first I spied thee from my palace roof 

Bathing beneath the arched and azure skies, 

Undecked of all but thy long glittering hair 

Thy tall round lines relieved by balmy blue, 

'Twas Venus to behold ! And O, how^ lovely 

Looked you looking down : the curved, long 

lashes 
Languishly low, you lifted pensivel}', 
'Twas but a moment, my Bathsheba, 
One mutual glance ! — and thouw^ert born for ME. 

A FLASH OF LIGHTNING 

A servant enters, unohserved 
Did'st think that Heaven, earth, or any man 
Could stand between me and the woman I love ! 

A PEAL OF THUNDER 
Be satisfied, Bathsheba. 

BATH. David I am, yet pity me if I at times 
Should weep for Uriah. 

wServant. 
Hear me O king ! 

DAV. Slave ! Knowest thou noi the hour ? 
SERV. But O king, 

Nathan the Prophet conieth from my God ! 
DAV. Nathan — cometh ? Away dreamer ! 

Nahtan ! 
SER. Nathan, O king! 
DA.V. Liar ! he knows not — 
SER. He waits for thee, O king. 
DAV. "Waits for me" Alas, Bathsheba, 
Thou, hast wept too loud ! ! 
BATH. I have done nothing, David. 

15 



DAV. Ah, get thee gone! 
Exit Bathsheba, wifth child. 

To Servant 

Admit the MAN form GOD ! 

But why "Alas" Why Nathan is my friend : 

Why should tlie name of "Nathan" now appall me? 

As the king paces the garden Nathan the Prophet 

•appears under a dim light. 

David is terrified but assumes calmness. 

DAV. Welcome, Prophet; Nathan the amiable! 

Comest thou from the Lord my God ? 

Nathan 
I from the Lord My God. 
Listen ! my God thus speaketh unto David : 
DAV. Speak O Prophet! 
NATH. Behold the word of God. 
Once, David, there were two men in a city, 
And one was very rich and the other very poor, 
Now the rich man had great herd of sheep, 
But the poor man had but one ewe lamb 
And this he loved and fostered as a child. 
Nay, from his cup the lamb was fond to eat. 
DAV. Indeed, indeed ! ! Prophet, I hear thee. 
NATH. Now one day, the rich man had a visitor. 
And the rich man w^ishing to feast his friend 
' Touched not his herds, but killed the poor man's 

lamb 
Leaving the poor man destitute, alone. 
DAV. By the God Nathan, 
He that has done this deed, dies like a dog! 
NATH. "Dies like a dog," David? 
DAV. Like a dog, Nathan ! 

NATH. Know then, O king, Thou art the man ! 
Thou art the rich man that stole the poor man's 

lamb. 
Thou art the king that seeks his throne to damn. 
DAV, I am the man? Nathan you mistake, 

16 



NATH. Listen; The God' of Isreal' speafcetH ;; 
I anointed thee King of Isreal 
And from the House of Saul, delivered thee. 
The House of Saul I gave thee for thine own, 
The wives of Saul I gave thee and his crown ; 
Why then the WIFE of Uriah hast thou stolen:!^ 
Why Uriah the Hethite hast tliou' slain 
Taking the poor man's wife to wive, in shame ! 
DAVID Curse me Nathan, curse this devil, David' 
NATH. All that He gave was nothing, sayeth: 

God? 
For He gave thee His heart, with all f 
DAV. Bountious God! Pro]>het, I will repent. 
r will not eat, I will not sleej), I will give My 

kingdom !. 
NATH.^ Rise, David' and behold: 
The Lord has pardoned thee,, thou shalt not die 
But see thy work : the enemies of God 
Blastpheme his name, seeing His favorite sin.. 
DAY. Md^st true, Nathan. 
NATH. Mark then, thy Penance, David. 
DAV. Speak, but with merc}-, PiTjphet ; not too» 

hard". 
NATH. Mark the fell sentence of the Lord^ 

My God: 
This Son of SiiT, thine mfant prfnce — 
DAV. Not Absalon, for God's, sake spare the 

boy ! 
Be kind to Absalon, only. 
NATH. Prince Absalon, this son of Sin shaiT 

die 
Ere one and twenty years the boy must die ! 
DAV. Mercy, mercy, Prophet ! 
NATH. Now may aifairs do summon me to 

lands unknown 
To f)oints encompassed only b\^ my God, 
Where men do in a universal voice cry "''Mercy, '^'' 

IT 



l>iit ah no : tliere cannot tlien "be mercy 
But for the Just alone. Now I will go— 
W^hen the lionr cometh on for thy son's death, 
rLook for me David, then shall you see me again, 

Nathan disappears — Thmtder and Lightnmg as 
.before. Re-enter^ as to the rescue, Bafhsheba^ 
Absalom, Sararias and Josophat^ zvho assist 
David to the palace. 

DAV, The boy must die ere one and tweiltj 
}earsi 

The curtain descends witJi all reJ^e/Jting varia- 
.tions of J he sentence of NxitJixin^ 



FOREWORD TO ACT TWO 
'The years roll on: Time's swift onrusli 
Brings Absalom apace to marihood''s flusl-L 
Bathsheba's babe is now Judea's dear 
Her maidens idohze him far and near. 
'The young and old for gallantry adore hmi 
-And life in all its newness Is hefore him. 
Who ku'ows 'but now he's planning to be king 
With Power, Youth and Gold, the Crown's the 
Th in gi 

18 



ACT Twa 

Stateroom in the palace of David; Josophat 
and Saraias. 

Josophat 
You had a tale to tell me, master scribe. 

Sararias 
Sit dowiT, sir, and FU tell you. 'T was some- 
four years ago — I think you were on business, 
for the King, — that Amnon, the king's heir, — 
in his ear — conceived a guilty love, for the 
beautiful sister of Absalom. The princess had 
a fad of cooking the most charming dishes, and 
Amnon, feigning to be dying from broths of the 
king's own cook, begged the assistance of the' 
Innocent girl. She gladly consented, and soon 
presented the supposedly srck pnnce with the- 
muffins. 
JOS. Would that all wives could cook such 

muffi.ns ! 
SAR. Hush, hush, record-er, 'tis a sad tale I 
tell thee : A bestial scandal, do you understand ! 
The poor innocent child immerged from the 
villian's room, driven from his presence, — with 
abuse, ruined in body, broken in heart, hopeless 
in life, weeping as if she would shed tears of 
blood. Absalom her brother, hears her story, 
hides his rage for the present, and took the poor 
outcast as a permanent resident of his own house. 
JOS. A noble brother, is the brave young prince f 
SAR. The ])enalty is Death, for deeds like this. 
But David the king, did nothing. Quoth he, 
'A^ex not the spirit of Amnon, for Amnon is 
my first born and mine heir.'^'^ Absalom waited^ 
two years he waited, Josophat, and then he him- 
self determined to avenge his dearest sister's 
wrongs ! One night, at a festival, the king was' 
absent — the hour was late, and all top heavy 

19 



-with wine, at a given signal from Absalom hi& 
.servants rushed in upon the unnatural Amnoii, 
dispached him, and so left him, wading in his 
blood! .\bsalom fled from the vengence of 
David, to Gessulir, Syrea, there he is still in exile. 
JOS. I am astonished, Sir ! 
This then, is the reason for the prince's banish- 
ment? 
,SAR. Exactly, Josophat ; Hush, here comes the 
king ! 
Distant music. Knter King David and the 
court, Chiisai and Architophel, p-rec ceding. 

David 
Now then, the first in order. 
Josophat 
O kingi a poor woman weeping and in mourning. 
Begs thine ear. 

DAV. I saw here in the throng. 
Bid her come forth. 

Enter the Wise woman of Gessahr disguised 
OS a undow. 

Widow 
Save me O king! 
DAV. Tell thy tale, w^oman. 
WIDOW: Alas I am a widow; two sons I had, 
Ijut, fighting in the field, one killed the other 
iVnd behold O king, the whole kindred rose up 
All crying ''Deliver him to us ! 
Deliver him up that slew his brother!" 
And now the only son the lord has left m-e, 
They want to kill him, king, the only son I have^ 
Save me O king. 
DAV. Peace, ])eace, woman. 
If any of thy kindred oft'end thee. 
Bring him here. And by the living God. 
He'll never harm thee more. Go to thy house 
xA.nd you, Sararias, give charge concerning her. 

20 



WID. O, king, one word! Let ihy riandniaicU 
speak ! 

DAV. But, briefly, my good widow. 

WID. Why do you show^ such mercy unto my 
son, 

And to thine own prince Absalom, no heart, 

No mercy do you show !. 

DAV. Speak no more! Chnsai, take her! 

WID. O king of clemency! 

Here are two sons with but a single sin : 

Brother slew bn^ther, i)rince slew brother prince., 

Even as my son did. 

DAV. Away, I say, awa\- ! 

WID. Lord of Jerusalem ! We all die 

And like the waters that return no more. 

We fall, back to the earth ! Nothing is lost 

In nature, nay, nor will the Lord, king, 

Have one soul perish, but recalleth. 

For that which is cast off 

Should not altogether perish f 

DAV. to himself. "For that which is cast ofif!" 

"We fall back to the earth !" By the God, Chusai, 

This widow makes me weep. To zindozt\ An- 
swer me that which I ask : 

Is not the hand of Joab my general 

With you in most of this work? 

WID. Th\' servant Joab, 

O king, bid me come here, but for my words 

In Absalom's behalf, I pray you blame him not. 

DAV. Thou seemest not an ordinary widow^ 

W1iat is thv name? 

WID. Orphra, O king. 

Architophel (removing her disffitse) 

Orphra! The wise woman of Gessahr! 

DAV. Leave her alone. I am amazed f 

More pleased am I than angry at this masque f 
Enter, general Joab, leading Absalom, who is 
21 



'disguised as a soldier. 

Joab 
Hail, David king and uncle! 
DAV. Stronghearted Joab! My sister's son, 
.And Sarvia's defender! What hostage, this? 
Joab, this "hour's events w^o.rk fast upon me. 
;So, for me, tell the prince, — 
JOAB rernovinq Ahsalom'^ disguise. 
Prince, behold thy king ! Son behold thy father ! 
As Absalom s disguise is removed, a great glad 
.cry goes up fro.m the mob, especially ihe girls. 
JOAB. Approach and look upon the king. 
DAV. angrily. Joab, Joab! 

Absalom kneels before the throiie. 
Rise Absalom! Takes his hands. 
Behold thine hands, though scarlet with the blood 
Of my first born, Amnon, my heir, my eldest, 
Thoueh these, thine hands, are scarlet, Absalom, 
Jerusalem, and all t"he world take note ! 
King David Is appeased: David forgives, 
He pardons Absalom! Embraces him. 
Where lias thou been? Bathsheba's babe doth 

wax 
Adonis-wlse to man! thy princely lines 
Defieth still the marble of the masters! 
Where hast tTiou "been? Joab thou hast made 

me happy! 
ABS. Three years, O ¥mg, in Gessahr, Syrea, 
I've spent with my grand])arents. 
DAV. 'T was an eternity 1 How T have missed 

thee, 
None but my good God knows ! 
ABS. coldly' How I have suffered 
Out-cast by all, in this most rank Injustice, 
None but my good Gi^d knows! (Murmur in 

tJt£ mob.) 
Why should it be so sire? What have I done 

22 



t'.- 



To merit banishment ? W^as it wrong, O kin 
To kill the beastial rape that spoiled my sister? 
DAV. Speak better of my dead, or by the God I: 
ABS. Why then, to hell allegience ! Here's the 

sword 
That Amnon died by, here, the breast of exiled: 

Absalom. 
If my iniquity still makes you mourn. 
Take your revenge O King! 
DAV. Proud and distainful ever! 
I saw this in the infancy of life: 
This regal air was present at thy birth. 
Set us thy sword; offend n(j more th\ father!. 
I am so pleased to see you, home again 
That my full hear forgets all other things. 
ABS. Then hear thv son's recjuest. 
DAV. With gladness. 

ABS. Sire, when I was in (iessahr, S\rea, 
Thy servant made a vow unto his God, 
That if he \vT)uld be pleased to bring me forth 
Again unto Jerusalem and thee, 
I would return and off'er sacrihce 
For this, my God's great bounty. 
DAV. Nothing so welcome, nothing so desired 
Both by my God and me. lUit must }ou go at 

once ? 
ABS. Such was promise, blather. 
DAV. Keep thy ])romise. For the brief time. 

Farewell. 
And the good God of Isreal go with you. 
ABS. Father and king, farewell. Gobuj. 
DAV. Call him, Josophat. 
JOS. Absaalom, Absalom ! 

DAV. Go to thy mother, son ! Bathsheba yearns 
And languishes for thee. Out of her anguish 
She builds realms of love, only to ])ine 
Again for absent Absalom ! Go to her 

23 



For the g-ladness of the time is hers far more 
Than ours of Israel's. Visit thy mother I 
ABS. I will obey you, father. 

Exeunt, all but David and Joah, amid acclaim 
for ilhsalom. 

DAV. How fine he looks [ 
JOAR. The promise of a soldier and a man! 
DAW How shall I thank you Joab? 
Knowing how my heart was turned toward him 
Thou camest like an angel, for my pride 
Left to itself, would break all hearts, mine own. 
Most certainl\. Acclainiation, again. Hark! 
JOAR. Upon me rest the iniquity — 
DAW Listen, Joab, listen! Louder acclaim. 
What do you hear, Speak, Speak ! Can this be 

treason ? 
JOAR. I cannot yet discern, O king! 
DAV. O Joab I have a fear — a very little fear! 
Run to the balcony! ./ trumphet and a voice: 
'\lbsalom reigneth in Hebron!" 
JOAR. Did you hear that, David? 
I)A\'. P>\' the living God ! voice again. 
Absalom reigneth in Hebron ! 
Darkness and doom! What see'st thou? 
JOAR. O, King, I am blinded by the sight: 
Chariots, O king, and again more chariots ! 
There's Absalom ! Thy son arrayed in all Judea's 

s])len(lor, 
His golden car drawn by six snow-white steeds. 
Thousands of horsemen glittering in steel. 
Hundreds of footman run before the show, 
And, O king, they come, they come, this way! 
DA\\ Come down and look no more ! Thy 

words alone 
Will blind me ! 

That proud bright being now^ is burst aw^ay, 
In all his [)rince]y beaut}' to defy 

24 



The heart that cherished hhii ! All, well, I ^^o 

The way of all flesh, hearty Joab ! 

The warm bright sun has left me, the heavenly 

beams 
Have lent themselves to youth ! alack Judea ! 
Is David grown so cheap? Let the Ammonites 

remember. JJ^eilding his szvord wildly. 
When they cut ofif the beards of my ambassadors 
For a taunt, the children of Ammon fell 
And Syrea's sons, the choicest and the flowers 
Of her youth, — before our outraged sword ! 
Then 1 was good enough for Israel and all ! 

Enter, Chiisai, and Architophel ruuniiuj. 
CHUSAI. Fly O, king, Absalom thy son, now 

seeks thv life ! 
ARCHrrOrHEL. Away C) king thy son will 

murder thee ! 
DAV. I will not stir, I will not move ! 
ARCHITOPHEL aside. What good is a dying 

lion ? Exit. 
DAV. And my Jerusalem, whom I have loved 

so well 
Forgets her king, ere death has sealed his sad, 
World-w^eary eyes ! 

JOAB. Listen David, Listen! Uncle, King! 
CHL^SAI. Despair not, David! In glory 
Or in gloom, Chusai is thy friend ! 
I'll fool this boy-king as they call him. 
I'll swear fidelity, to "king" Absalom 
My council he will barken, mark and heed, 
And so be damned ! Dost thou hear me David ? 
rU say thou art at Olivet, but O king, 
Mount Olivet beware ! You hear me ? 
DAV. I'll to the south of Jordan with some 

friends 
If friend I still can claim. 
JOAB. Why this is excellent, come! 

25 



CHUSAI. We'll show Prince Charming- what 

a fool he is ! 
JOAB. Remember he who murdered thy first 

born ! 
DAV O, Gad ! Must I remember ! Exeunt. 
END OF ACT TWO. 

ACT THREE 

Scene One: Throne room in the palace of 

David as before. 

.Ibsalom on the throne beside him his general, 
.hiiasa, a Court of followers, attendants. 

Absalom 
So am I honored sons of Israel. 
Thou daughters of Judea, be it known, 
That we the son of David thine elect 
Shall study to deserve your loves henceforth. 

roice: Hail to the chosen of the Lord! 

Another: And all Israel! 
And yet I would not turn >()u against David, 
He is a goodlv king. Hisses. 

J'OICE: A treacherous old tyrant! 
ARS. Though somewhat lacking justice, let us 

grant. 
We might im])rove his verdicts with some care, 
Vov he is old, decrepit and infirm, 
Sinister and irritable growing, 
He wants the heart to hear your greviences. 

Cheers. 
^'our wives and daughters say he slights them ofif. 
Not that I'd speak disparaging of David, 
But if the poor dead Uriah could speak 
Twould be a speech to strike King David dead ! 

Voices: Away with the man of blood! 
ABS. I would not steal your hearts away from 

David 
Nor did I move this court from ancient Hebron; 

26 



Hebron, the holy spot, so dear to all of you, 

Was once your shrine of justice. Not my hand 

Dear friends, has moved it here. 

Wails and juiirmerings against David. 

Amasa ! 

Amasa 

Here, master! 

ABS. We sent one to the learned Architophel — 

AMASA. Here comes the counsellor, master! 
Enter Archifop/iel. 

ABS. Architophel! O thou Oracle of God! 
Architophel 

Hearing your need, O, king, I hastened from 

My house, coming with gladness, my statesman- 
ship 

Is at thy masters feet ! 

ABS. We knew it, Architophel! 

Enter, iinohserved, Chusai. 

ARCH. Add thereto, O king, my grudge for 
David : 

Sure you know thy mother is my grandchild 

Poor Bathsheba was torn from Uriah ; 

I knew him v/f 11 : a braver captain never drew 
a breath 

I am for you, as I was once for David. 

Will you hear mv plans? 

ABS. Speak, Oracle of God! 

ARCH. This night O king, pick twenty thou- 
sand men 

And hunt him down ere daybreak ! Give him 
no chance 

For weak and weaiy is the wandering David. 

ABS. This is most certain; prepare Amasa 

Twenty thousand men for present charge. 

O what a gift thou hast, wise Architophel ! 
Chusai 

Hear me speak O king. 

27 ' ■ ■ 



ABS. What David's friend! Do you love life, 

Chusai ? 
CHUS. Nay, for I will be his whom the lord 

has chosen 
Who shall I serve if not the son of David ! 
With him shall I abide and all his people. 
Hear me speaak O king. 
ABS. Let him speak. 
CHUS. Thou knowest what a w^arrior is thy 

father 
The whole world knows how marvelously valient 

he is ! 
David the dog of war is now himself ! 
Nay, our most gallant men, though they be wolves 
Though they be iron-girdled, lion hearted. 
Will melt with fear before his blazing eye ! 
ABS. Ha! I have seen that eye, and must con- 
fess 
His hatred is his own : in all the world 
No man can love nor none can hate like David ! 
I thank you counsellor ! Go on : 
CHUS. What, good are twenty thousand, master 

king ? 
Gather O king all Israel unto thee 
Like to the sands of the desert : unnumbered. 
So cover as the dew upon the earth, 
This monster David and his furious friends. 
Be merciless O king and of his followers 
Leave not a man alive ! 
ABS. O this is wondrous wise. What x\rch- 

lophel ! 
How comes it then that you not thought of this? 
Sir, I am sorry but our course no futher needs 

you. 
From the throng: Away with the oracle! 
ABS. Chusai seems to suit us well enough 
So well indeed he suits us that you seem 

28 



Half guilty of high treason to our state. 
ARCH. Let me speak, O king, one word, 

Master ! 

From the throng : He is a traitor ! 
ABS. We cannot hear you now: be satistied 
With silence, Architophel, from now, on. 

From the throng: Follow Chusai's counsel! 
Chusai is a wizard ! 
ABS. It shall be done. 
Tomorrow is my birthda\-, countrymen, 
Before my God and my beloved Tudea, 
Tomorrow T shall reach the age of Man. 
Tomorrow if you're pleased to crown me king 
We shall declare a double holiday. 
Add thereto Victory, — thanks to Chusai's 

counsel, — 
And we shall have a triple holiday ! 

Acclahnataion. 
And countrymen, think me not a son unnatural 
Hunting his father down ; let Father David live, 
But for mv beloved Judea, David the king must 

die! 
Where is he now, Chusai ? 
CHUS. More than a million strong, O king, 
Fast of Mount Olivet. 

ABS. ''A million strong east of Olivet !" March 
To the mount at once ! Amasa, dost thou hear ? 
Go, some of you, and empty every house, 
Say 'tis the general judgment, — 
Say the Eternity is at hand, unless 
King David dies ! Jerusalem, I bring thee, 
Liberty ! 

EXEUNT, — amid clamor and acclaim, — all, 
excepting Architophel. 
ARCH. Go to the mount, you fool ! 
This man of David's makes an ass of thee ; 
But the fair are often fools. The blind shall 

21) 



Lead the blind! Mount Olivet! How clever! 
March to the mount, ye flock of sheepish fools, 
David IS snug by Jordan river bank. 
I'll set my house in order and go hang! 

blessed Jordan, cool his fevored brow, 

1 never missed king David more than now! 

End of Scene One — Act Three. 
SCENE TWO. 
The shores of Jordan. David is almost in 
rags, seated on the river banks; his followers lie 
zveak and weary about him. 
David 
History shall call me the "bare-footed king." 
Come followers, take heart ! Ye have walked all 

night 
Poor friends, ye starve! But Jordan must be 

crossed 
If we'd evade the enemy's onrush. 
How we have prayed for him who hunts down. 
For my estranged and wilful Absalom ! 
Methinks the Lord will yet have mercy on us! 

Enter Soldier in haste 
SOLDIER. O king Architophel, thy friend, con- 
spired aginst thee ! 
DAV. Architophel ! 

O, dear friends, I found him, tendering his mules, 
So raw a mountaineer, so inarticulate. 
He could not speak two words intelligable ! 
I took him to myself, I gave him schooling 
I set at so prosperous a pace. 
He was another person. O if he was 
My mother's son, I could not have loved him 
more ! 
Enter an old serz'ant of the late house of SaiiL 
Sei-v^ant 
Come out, come out thou man of bloody 
Thou man of Belial, 

30 



The Lord repass thee now full well ' 

For the crown thou stole from Saul. 
The Lord has given thy realm up 

Into thy fool-son's hand, 
Evil shall come apace on thee 

For thou hast lost command ! 

Goes out repeating "eome out, come out" etc. 
Soldier 
Wh\- let this dead dog curse ni} lord King? 
DAV. Let him alone ; let him curse David ! 
Behold, my own, the riches of my blood, 
Seeketh his father's life! How then shall Saul's 
Poor roofless rat show mercy unto me? 
Full many a time I soothed the insane Saul 
With my old harp of Hebron. O thou dead Saul ! 
Thou to pursued gray David, and thy spear 
Had ])inned me to the wall, but for a hair's breath 
And the grace of Ciod ! Yet I condemn thee not : 
Reverse of fortune and the want of Faith 
Had made you mad ; and I, the Lord's anointed 
I the poor shepherd's son, must therefore be thv 

foe! 
Ye Mountains of Gilboa, remember Saul, 
Ye holy hills, remember Jonathan ! 
Whose love was wonderful. 
Passing the love of woman ! 
Kind friends, forgive me : I was lost a little 
In the fields of yore ! For this slaves cursing, 
Methinks the lord will render good for evil ! 

Enter Seba, with tzvo asses laden with food. 
What hast thou there, old friend? 

Seba 
Refreshments for thee and thine, O king! 
DAV. Our pra\'er is answered ! Feed my 
lambs ! 

The followers attack the food. 
Seba 

31 




Abalsom: ''March to the mount at once'' 



Here's wine, here's bread, here's figs for thee 

O king! 
Eat and drink for thy servants, in the wilderness. 
DAV. Ah, gentle Seba, onl\- the O'utcast thanks 

you, — 
The shepherd bo}- that slew the grant, Cioliath, 
Is all that thanks thee now ! Honest Seba, 
Though it mean but little or nothing, know.: 
H God but look with favor on my cause, 
Vou shall not miss my bounty.! Eat with me! 
Enter Chnsai, rnnniiui. 

Chusai 
The God of Israel bless thee O king ! 
DAV. C) my most dear Chusai, what's the news 1 
CHUS. I have defeated the profitable counsel 

Of the Oracle, Architoi)hel, 

DA\^ The (iod again is with us! 

CHUS. I have sent him to Mount 01i\et but 

here 
Thou art safe, by Jordan! Hut C) King, delav 

not! 
He is unhousing Israel entire, 
Proclaiming that the walls of hell will burst 
Unless King David dies ! All Israel 
'O King, now seeks thy life! 
DAV. Aha! Rise, my good friends; The time 

is short ! 
T burn again with fury for the Phillistines ! 
lAer noble Joab, divide our armys 
Into three divisions: Command the footman 
l^thia; Abisai, thou the horseman manage! 

joab and ourself will lead 

jOAB. Do not venture David! 
If we are caught it will not greatly matter 
But David's capture means complete defeat. 
DAV. That will I do, Joab, what seemeth good 

to you! 

32 



Vet Bear iiic, for 1 give mv last commancr. 
JOAB.. Speak O king! 

DAY. Let fall, tliy sword with all the hate- 
That thy l>rute force can summon, 
So let them knr^w that David liveth yet! 
Be merciful to none, spare none, none spare;. 
But One- 

JOAB. Who is that One, if I may ask Q king!: 
DAV. Even he who seeks this old white head., 
Who'd set his heel upon the heart of David, 
Let this One live ! Take him alive !. 
Bring' Absalom the yomig man, safe to me! 
Poor Absalom ! 

lind ofi Scene Two — Act Three. 

SCENE three:— ACT THREE. 

Throne room as before. Queen BathshehQ' 
hearing the infant Solomon, attended by Elia. 
BATHSHEBA. Is the world mad, Elia?. 
ELL^. Why dear queen? 
BATH. How shall I pray in this mad world 
When father and son do seek each other's life? 
r cannot pray for David^s victory 
Nor" can I ])ray for my dear son's success 
Since one must surely die. God gfve 
King David ])ity, and my jn'oud soiT, sense ! 
ELL\. It shall be so, dear queen. 

Enter Josopliat. 
JOSOHP^r. Madam, I brinor thee word, the- 

rebels break ; 
All Israel have joined King David's forces 
The enemy is beaten, horse, foot and dragoons 1' 
BATH. You liear that, dear Elia? a vfctorv for 

David. 
Where then is my boy, I^rince Absalom. 
Jos. Prince Absalonr thv son is with the miss- 



SB: 



EATH. AMiy JoaT^ lias sworn to luring the ~boy 

alive. 
JOS. Calmly, my good madam, Joab may yet 

keep his word. 
.A great cry without: David reigneth in Judal 
BATH. But where is Absalom? Wildly. ^ 

Enter, home by the throng, In triumph. King 
Darid; with him is Joab, R., the two captains, 
L., Seba, Chiisai, R., Israelites.... King David, 
.arrayed in zvliite, is restored to his throne. 
JOAB. Thou wert a warrior ever! Now ripe 

age 
Defeats the foolish head that beauty carries. 

filia takes the child from Queen. 
DA]^ID to Bathesheba. Come to me, hravo's 

l^rirrcess ! Embraces. 
Let Heaven note, there is more stniiulis 
In this great kiss, than all the joys of triumph! 
BATH. Ah, when I see you now, 
The expanse of that h)road celestial brow, — 
Crowned with the Itrillant blooms of victory, 
I cannot think you could be cruel to mine, — 
1 know that you will pardon Absalom. 
DAY. 'Twas my immediate thought. To Joab 

— ^My grand lieutenant 
Tell me 1 ju'ay you, Is the young man safe? 
JOAB. Upon my oath, O king; 
We met at the forest of Epriam, 
AVe, the opposing hosts, for the grand conllict 
Which should determine all for the boy or \ou. — 
..\nd O king the blood did run, as 'twere a crim- 
son sea 
At the end of time! There T beheld your son, 
Fighting most gallantly — , then on a sudden 
A great cheer for David ! the rebels crossed the 

line 
Tlie (lav was ours! But in he wild confusion 

34 



Following, 1 saw no more of Absalom, thy son - 
DAV. By the God I sa\' ! Is there a man in all. 

Israel 
Knows where the boy is? 

JOS. from the balcony: He comes 0-, king, he- 
comes ! 
Mo urn fit I' cries, "with a ii f. 

Bath, takes Dazid's hand, hastens to door. 
BATH. Softly I lead thy father to thee, sleeping; 
A little sounder than you sometime were, — 
In all thy beauty and delight of life, 
Again I say, O husband, see him, see lilm 
Sat'e at last f 

Here the body of .fbsaloni is borne in. The 
Que en faints. 
DAV. Safe at last f What Balhshelia is this: 

the bo}'? 
The Queen! To att. — to Joab. 
Did I not charge thee on thy mortal peril 
To keep the }oung man safe r How could }ou' 

kill him, Joab ? 
What are th\- conquests now? Let Rabbath rot!" 
To th.e Body of Absalom. 
Must I hear the gush of music and llie \oice of 

young 
When thotr no more with th\' sweet voice can- 
come 
To greet me Absalom ! 

Na\-, no\\- when I am stricken, and my heart 
Like a bent reed, is waiting to be broken 
How does its love for thee as I depart 
^^earn for thine ear, to drink its last deep, token. 
To Joab. O, thou hateful man ! From me for- 
ever g'o ! 
JOAB. O king, I know not ! I am innocent ! 

Under a dim light, A^athan the Prophet re- 
appears as in Act One. 

35 



"XATHAX. Blame not thy general Joab! David 

behold-: 
I am come again as I have promised 
Fulftlling the dread sentence of my God. 
The God hath said "Ere he be man he dies!" 
This son of sin is dead ere he be man : 
For Absalom is dead upon his birihday. 
DAV. The Man from God hath Spoken! 
Voices in the tlirougs The prophesy of Nathan! 
DAV. The manner of his death O prophet? 
NATHAX. 'J\irning his horse into the thicker 

wood 
In the low-hanging limb of an old oak, 
Caught he the much admired and long clustering 

curls, 
Tliere hung he till he died ; blame not thy general 

Joab. 
DAV. (), faithful Joab, forgive the stricken 

king! 
The Queen has recovered and is holding the 
infant as before. 
NATHAN. Behold the Oueen: W^ithin her 

arms holdeth Solomon, 
.Solomon thine heir! Solomon, whose reign 
Shall be the grandest in the history of man! 
Joyful cries in the throng. Solomon, 
Whose wealth shall be the wonder of the world! 

Jo\ful cries .Solomon, 

Whose wisdom shall ring down the ages through ! 

Joyfiu-I cries. 

So, for the time, farewell. 

Nathan disappears. 
\^\Y. The Man From (iod Hath Spoken! 
Curtain, amid general acclainiation. 

The End. 
36 



STARS AND WKX 

l^ach momenl has a creature all its owrr 
And gives each wight a color and a tcjne- 
Thus, P1re,, Water, Air and Earth, 
Can make us men of want or worth. 
Fire is Life dear reader, 

He that has none is dead. 
And evil may come to the unwary one 

Where Fire and VV^ater are wed. 
h^)r water was ever a vagrant 

That follows the wandering moon 
'VUg [)()et, the beggar, the artist. 

Is often the lot of a Loon. 
Wed l^^IKl"'. and Air good i)astf)rs, 

And you'll tind (|uitc in .--pite of the cree(f 
That the SUX to the W L\ IJ will ever he kinci 

And that is relegicjn's sore need. 
Though Water is ever uncertain 

W'ith l^arth it mSy harmonize, 
l'^)r the i)oor SUN-burnt .^od gives a welcoming; 
nod 

To the Rain as it flees from the Skies. 

FALLEN (,()0S. 
T)Ut the Rottenness of Roman s^iciety wa>; 
bexond cure b\' an\- Innnan policw" 
'* 

Before the ports of Rome\s Impenal l'(im[y, 
The proletariat grew wont to romp ; 
The haughty senators with nnid they smeared 
They tore their togas off, they gibed, they jeered. 
Wdiilst the luxurious fops with feasting cloyed 
Their bated mettle fain they would have buoyed 
To strike the ragged rabble with their feet 
And send them howling thru the city's street. 

37 



Or with a dominant i^lare to t right them pale 
And see them silenced, slinking in a quail. 

This did they \'ester(b}s, hut now, no mxDre 

I^daunt they the far-famed prowess as of yore. 

Their one .retx)rt for being spit upon 

Are silly smirks and oaths weak women con. 

Oh, would our GREAT REPUBLICS warning 
take, 

And not leave repetition in the wake. 

Of the most rueful fall of noblest men. 
Why we shall have a race of gods, again.] 

Who, with the stars subhrnety might vie, 

And like the lofty fires, never die. 

THE WARDEN'S RHYME OF 
ISAAC MORK 

I saw these things and knowing well 

The mystic tale is ti"ue, I tell 

Though hours pass and on, the 3'ears 

We've looked long tlirough the glass that peers 

Into the all-forgotten past 

riie wrinkled face of yore to -cast. 

The twilight's hush, the lone l)right star 

The crisj) white foam of sandy bar, 

Where vas-t Atlanta's moan and roar 

Through ragged rock and concave tore. 

And Tsaac's house was on the hill 

And Tsaac's house w as bleak and chill. 

The fishers mooted much in awe 

When e'er the deralect they saw ; 

For gaunt old Mork with feet unshod 

Was fond to brave the Ice-bound sod. 

They haggled o'er the treasure hid 

\Vi iiin the hermit's ])ent house lid. 

The moon came up with full round face 

And bent its light ujion the place. 

On Lsaac'.s house upojm the hill 

38 



On Isaac's house so drear and chilL 
A clatter of the latchet chain : 
And Isaac Mork goes forth again. 

Abroad the melancholy main 

Erect he strode, like ancient Thane ; 

His foot was fleet o'er dunes and crags^ 

The mystic majesty in rags ! 

On, on he strode and lo ! his halt : 

'Tis at the threshold of a vault. 

Blast of the north he nothing knows! 
But on the frozen shore he throws 
His tattered coat and on liis knee 
He bows himself in praxers degree. 
His strong sad voice rides on the wind : 
*'7 he\' must l)e cruel to be kind 

"Masters of the might}" line 

Weavers of the word, divine, 

Hermits of my holy hills 

Speak your wisdoms, speak your wills ! 

Prophets present, prophets ])ast. 

Into yore and future cast ! 

Gird my people for the fight 

Guide them, arm them, with your might ! 

His prayer is done; he swift arose 

He kissed the vault's bronze cross and goes I 

And naught but moon and hallowed night, 

And I alone beheld this sight ! 

A clatter of the latchet chain 

Shows Isaac Mork is home again I 

He ])rayed for Russia, ])(x)r mad land, — 
Where bedlum reeks from strand to strand. 
Nightly he prayed Siberia's waste 
Well kncAv the half nude midnight haste. 
But prayer was vain. The growdng gloom. 
Proved Mork but moments from his doom. 

39 



So, when the\- shot him on the morn 
And rid him of his Hfe, forlorn, — 
Some petty traitor, some mean spy 
Might choose a better way to die, 
Than Nicolas the Sometime Czar ! 
But eclipse fears no despot's star! 



LUSITANIA ! 

Originally Tublished in "The Times" 

May IT), l*)!."), PZntertainment rights reserved 

.hi Epic in Ten verses 

I 

The grandest Ocean Queen of All ! 

Great things and small, unseen are soon forgot, 

Ruler and beggar in that selfsame lot. 

You all loved Lusitania ; oh, Lusitan ! 
Thou poor ill-fated and forgot-of-man. 
Immailed in iron and in steel inframed, 
Most mighty ship, for girth, for speed pro- 
claimed, 
"The latest word, the last for safety ' — 

what a wonder of the world was she ! ! 

II 

1 see her Cargo, Many Kingdoms Worth. 

I see her portico and colonade, 

Her terraces and massive balustrade 

And mystical and purple streamed tow'rs. 

Gardens of sun; obliterating bow'rs. 

Yes, pleasure plains and godly galleries, 

Pavillions, and old Orient hostelries. 

I see her cargo, — many Kingdoms worth — 

From every port and quarter of the earth. 

40 



TIT. 



The Argosy to Recreate the World ! 

Salons emJbellished and o'erhung with arts, 

The rarities of universal marts. 

Her lowest port illured great shafts of shine: 

Celestial sun, to prisoner of mine ; 

Wooed aereal waftures from the soothing south, 

And brought the joxous warble to the mouth. 

Right proudly her banners she unfurled, 

The argosy to recreate the world .' 

W. 

Bon Voyage! 

So thus the sea queen, rapt witli victory 

From that fair island circled by the sea, 

Unto her last and fatal voyage danced, 

And man looked on, admiring, entranced ! 

Ah ! how she leai)t ! cleaving the grand concave 

Of vaulted waters and the foam-ca])ped wave. 

And so she's gone, dear reader, for the day 

God guide her precious care, and keep her way. 

V 

One-thousand and two hundred slain as One! 

Alas, frail man! 

How great art thou to the All Seeing Eye? 
Since Adam's fall still dooms us all to die : 
The copper crammed, the gem embroidered purse, 
The low, the literate, in one deep hearse. 
Yet God, good God ! great God ! was it well done ? 
One thousand and two hundred slain as one I 
Regardless wolves ! why fell you foe and friend ? 
Fast hounds we'll have to hunt you to the end ! 

41 



VI 

The Attack ! 

Over the waters, the vast midnight main, 
Came echoes of a mild, melodious strain. 
Some played at cards, some danced and some 

drank deep. 
And some setted sombrelv ofif to sleep. 

When, lo! 
A muffled thud ! scarcel}' so much, no more, 
Perchance a billow broke against a door. 
Unheard by many and survivors say 
The merrymakers were unmoved from ])lay. 

VII 

Down went Our Greatest, Bravest, Lusitan ! 
lM)rward, she plunged, needing a friend's advice 
into Hun's murd'rous submarine device. 
Is all war fair? — Great God! was it well done? 
One thousand and two hundred slain as one! 
P)eyond all rescue, nay, the prey of man. 
Down went our greatest, bravest Lusitan! 
Thick is the sea with corpse of fathers, sons. 
Innocent mothers and loved little ones. 

VIII 
J'nto the deep and bleak abysmal brine. 
The monstrous sacrifice of murderous mine. 
One thousand and two hundred dauntess braves 
Went without warning to untimely graves. 
The red moon gleams athwart your crimson 
plains 

JJltere man and horse and implements of war. 

Lie massed and motionless. O grim remains 
Of genius, science, arts! Prussia's no morel 

IX 
For Us and All Democracy! 
Awake, oh kinsmen, from nightmares of blood, 
EvQ this scene end the universal feud! 

42 



Ere Uncle Sam sets on his dog's of war 

Come down thou kaiser-fool, give o'er, give o'er! 

At length Great Wilson spoke the magic word, 

Our answer to the autocratic lord : 

Not now "too proud to flight," nor neutral we. 

But war for us, and all Democracy ! 

X 

The New Republic 

Ouick then, and cleanse thy new republic's way ! 
You autocratic dogs have had your day. 
Thy loyal race too long you have misled, 
Their shattered houses call for a "A Kaiser's 

Head!" 
To bleak Siberia turn tliat hateful glare 
And let it gaze upon his own death-chair. 
Fight for the right, friend, here ends mv story 
Stand bv your own. MV OWN,' OLD 

GLORY !" 



TO MARIE 

Thou hast the laughing li]) of love 

Thine eye is heavens beam 
Thy raven coil of clust'ring curl 
Fulfills my vaugest dream! 

TO LAURA 
Where stars upon the river dancing by, 
I sang thee, love my moonlight lullaby. 
Your lovely langour, your delicious croon, 
The sombre drifting of our gay lagoon. 

I built thee. Love, a castle in my mind, 
Wliere the lithe willow" waveth to the wind. 
Where swallows wing their way unto the West, 
I lay thee, Love, all in thy bloom to rest ! 

43 



O, summer sun, shine brightly here, ' 

And guard the garden of my dear ! 
I've sung thee love, my farewell lullaby 
Where stars u])on the river dancing by. 

THE SHEPHERD TO HIS SON 
"Xo more a lad," the shepherd said, 

"To be a man's your cue, 
Get thee a wife for the to wed 

Henceforth man's duty do ! 
Spend not thyself with worthless drab 

Nor toss ye to the wind 
An that thine eyes loose glances had, 

A wud God made thee blind !" 

TO AN ACTOR 

The glamour goeth from thy life 

Broken of sj)irit, thou ! 
Far better thou hadst s])ent thy day 
About the i)lacid plough. 
Thou shouldst not then see glory's paler 

Life's chill, receeding sun, 
Thv children's arms about thy neck 

Out-weigh all laurels won. 

HIMSELF and Life. 
A SYMBOL 
Himself and Life beat wearily the strand. 
And as they plod Life lim[)ly linked his hand. 
"O, Life," cried He, "thou tedious old bore," 
"Why dost thou cling upon me, evermore?" 
'What, wilt thou see me meet this raging surge," 
"And being drowned, avoid thy loathed scourge ?" 
"Or, if thou wilt not, tell me if you can," 
"If ever thou yield aught, to wretched man 
"Sure, thou art blind" ([uoth Life, "else wouldst 
thou sec" 

44 



"Yon setting sun is crowned with victory." 
"No less victorious should 1 leave you," 
"If thou wilt perserve thy task to do." 
"No more! "He rants, "I hate philosophy." 
"It ne'er hath medicined m\' misery;" 

"But led me on through sins and seething 
sorrows" 
"Still greeting me with ever-bleek to-morrows!" 

"Th\- thoughts are ill," spoke Life, "th\- mind 

diseased," 
"When thou wouldst ha\e mc gone, whom heaven 
leased," 
"That thou mightst use me well and not 

abuse," 
"Nor my brief company to lose." 
"Fasten thy grasp, look up, and hasten on !" 
"For when Fve taken leave, indeed, Fm gone." 

His eyes look wide. He scans the boundless 
sea 

"A pleasant place for hsh ; Leave land for me !" 
"Show me the green ; how I this bar abhor !" 
"Methinks I like thee Life, a little more." 

He mends this pace and quits the sterile surf. 

He leaps with joy upon the fertile turf. 
"By my immortal soul, if Life be such," 
"I love thee, Life, though I did hate thee much !" 

MAYTIME— F)l!) 
To Agnes E. D 
How Sad! 

When all the world is gone A-^Iaying 
And men have ceased their grewsome slaying 
Thou art not numbered with the glad. 
How sad, dear heart, indeed, how sad ! 
But hearts of steel at length will sever, 
And Givers cannot live, forever ! 

45 



TO MY AlOTHER 

(From the back of her photograph) 

How well this ghostly likeness, ah, my dears. 

Speaks dim oblivion in ten short years ! 

Ten years, dear friends, nay, this September 

morn, 
Shall mark another decade newly born, 
Since sweet Marcella, wearying of strife, 
Drooped her sad eyes and so passed from life, 
' XOTE 
To, Echoes of Evening Bells. 

It is an established fact, — and I hope I have 
made it adequately clear, — that the principals of 
this poem zvere not officially connected with the 
Church at the time of their liaison. 

I^ven if afterward their distinguished, high 
services and a life of penance for a single sin, — 
were such as to admit them to the sanctuary, 
tlieir case was most exce])tional. 

The hero was a prodigious theoligan, and 
counted the popes, themselves, amongst his 
millions of students. Both were professors of 
dialectics; Make allowences for the time; Im- 
agine a lone bright star in a dark centuiy and 
you will have some idea, of the intellectual activi- 
ties of Peter Aberlard, of the darkest h^leventh. 

However you will find no dry dialectics here, 
as the story is now presented purely for its 
romantic and dramatic values, and in sifting-out 
the dialectics I beleive I have performed a gym- 
natsic if not an artistic feat 

V. P. S, 

ECHOES OF EVENING BELLS, OR, 

LOVERS OF NOTRE DAME.— 

(iod gives us some strong men : stout stalwart 

hearts. 
Whose stern clear e\es a wealth of love imi)arts; 

46 



And this was Fulbert : clement, yet austere, 
And to the sins 'gainst chasity, severe. 
*Neath Notre Name's gray shadows he abode. 
In the great prelate's house ; and nearby flowed 
A crystal lake that mirrored gorgeously 
The glorious gardens of tranquilit}'. 
And with the Canon Fulbert, Heloise, 
Child of his own dead sister, — God would please, 
To place the rearing of the saintly flower, 
And Fulbert taught his ward with priesth' power. 

ABELARD, ENVY OF PEERS 
In Paris, too, lived Abelard the sage 
Far-famed philospher, wonder of age; 
Handsome of feature, gracious, forty \ears. 
Ally of Pape and envy of the peers. 
Up to this time though celebrated, he 
Was not of priesthood, but of laiety; 
And till he saw chaste Helois ])assing by 
His only fault was trium])h's vanity. 

LCWE OR GENIUS?' 
But as she crost the ports of Notre Dame 
Love as to Faust, his Genius came to damn. 
''Who would not run to look upon his face, 
Was held ' and infidel and state disgrace !' " 
So innocent was she, so saintly fair, 
A sacrilidge, it seemed, thus to ensnare, 
One so accomplished, beautiful and learned. 
And to her God assiduously turned. 

THE RUSE. 
Now this most learned sage of genius' seat 
Went forth her uncle Fulbert, to entreat 
"That he might teach her in philosophy 
So she most wise of all her sex should be." 
The trusting Fulbert cjuickly gave consent ; 
He saw the gain but missed the Dark Intent. 
And now the all-admired Abelard, 
Had access free to the stern canon's ward, 

47 



^COURTSHIP OF THE LAYMAN ABELARD 
To her he strolled from high St. Genevieve 
Flushed with success, determined to achieve 
The maiden's love, and thereby conquer all, 
Tuning his ekx]uence to Helois' Fall! 

'Twas silent as a sanctuary's nave 

But for the bee and bird, too lonely grave 

For Love's deliciousness ! 'How weary seem 

Drv^ dialectics now ! Now whilst they dream 

'Mid such a paradise of soul and sense 

The Mines of Learning are not worth a pense! 

A PARADISE OF SOUL AND SENSE 
But for her eighteen years and loyal heart 
And passion too devoted to impart 
The maid was helpless ; no words tell 
How Fulbert's high hopes with "chaste Helois, 

fell! 
When thundering Fulbert heard on Paris's street 
The shocking scandal ! — his dread rage repleat^, 
Unhousing Abelard he flayed his niece 
So that his fury, seeming not to cease, 

The SCANDAU. 
Poor Helois in the disguise of a nun 
To Briton fled. And here was born, the son. 
The Layman penned the Canon, 'T^everend Sir, 
I deeply grieve my morals should incur 
Your righteous wrath ; my sin indeed is dire ; 
And know, to holy orders I aspire 
Yet though it mar my priestly plan of life, 
Right willingly Pll make your niece, my wife." 
"Well Said" the canon cried, and wrote "Dear 

Son, 
Bring here my niece and T will make thee One." 

HELOIS WILL NEVER BE A BRIDE 
But Helois read the letter and replied 
"'Your wretched niece shall never be a bride! 

-4^ 



But never' sa}' 1 Ruined Him when 1 wed !' ' 
Say that I loved him, think of me as dead. 

One night when g-ood men slept assassins came' 
©n sleeping' Abelard. With eyes' aflame, 
He wolce to see his own blood drip from knife^ 
He hurfed ac light , escaping with his life, 

JUST \'EXCiENCE. 
\u)v this u as h\ilbert :' Clement yet austere, 
And to the sin 'Ciainst Chasity, severe 
"That which offends thee, cut ft off," he swore,. 
■^That which hatli ruined nr\- niece -^hall ruin no' 
more V 

.\p,FX ART) FLrrrs!' 

Pursued with fears and terrors of the lance 
The fugitive found refuge far in France ; 
Here in a wilderness of wolf and weed. 
He huill a hermftage with branch and reed. 

Having meantime the Holy Orders taken, 
So fortune's darling turns to friar t'orsakcn. 
How Helois Bore the news the record fail, 
Save fo set (fown, ^'She forthwith took the 'cil."^ 

TO HFR OLD TKACHERSr 
If she had dreamed of solace wfth her son. 
Respect for Abelard now bid her shun 
The world. She merely lived to self chatise, 
And now she fled again in strange disguise, 
Age twenty years, — to Joi'n that Sisterhood, 
The tutors of her joyous maidenhood. 

TEN YEARS PASS. 
A decade passes and our romance fades. 
For Time and absence are as welcome shades" 
That hide from us what we would fain not see% 
But that our weakness will let us flee. 

43 



How "fares meantime the abee Abelarcl"? 
The graceful figure bent the white hands hartl. 
With toil to furnish but his barest needs. 
And nights of lonely vigil o'er his beads. 

THE LIGHT .OF LEARNING 
But learning then was like a beacon light, 
Not all the infamy of fate could smite 
The power of his teaching: Students came 
To his dark hut as Seaman to a flame. 
With hope returned the monk forgot his. woes, 
So o'er the hut a sanctuary rose. 
But fears of murder dogged him constantly 
Since tlie assault his mind was seldom free. 

THE LONE BRIGHT STAR 
'T walked in the arbor at even, 

]\Iy lamp was a lone bright star 
It ])ierced the thick vine, the Dark of Lost Time, 

It flashed forth my fond hope afar. 

That hope which I still have fostered, 
From springtime to winter of life, 

Which would have me bear, through the bleakest 
despair, 
The ne'er ending conflict with strife. 

THE WAR NO MORTAL WILL WIN 

The war betwixt angel and devil, 

The strife between Evil and good 
No mortal will win the unceasmg din, 

The battle of blest and the blood. 

And my spirit fell with my footstep 
As I marked its pace on the path 

For the faultering halt, is a sign of the Sah, 
Nay, the proof of the Aftermath. 

60 



ISLAND OF INFINITE REST 
And I sat and I dreamed of mine Island, 

Mine island of infinite rest, 
It was well to adjourn to felicit}'s bourne,. 

Beyond in the welcoming- west. 

And O, I am grown so weary. 

So weary^ of all earth's things 
I yearn for the rest of Oblivion's breast 

The calm that Fternit\- brings. 

For I know that mine Island is Heaven, 

And my soul is stronger again, 
Let me rise, do I stare? tho' I gaze nowhere, 

I know 'tis not in vain. 

Son ! fs not this star, an angel, 
The loved and the lost Helois 

That sanctified shade, ah that radiant maid, 
My heart, my hope and mv hearse. 

Ah, we do not know, m}- darling, 
TUit the fools that we are shall be, 
Till the westering sun, marks all blundering done, 
An daii<ens all lamps for me, 



Yet our hopes were ever brief moments 
Mad music of ecstacy, 
W hen freedom from pain like a good angel came. 
W'itli trices of libertv. 



I'Or e\en a monk may burn my son, 
Tho' it seldom be understood, 
There is many a smart of a rifted heart, 

Beneath the Sack-cloth and the Hood !. 

Lver avagrant, I knew one. 
Wandering in the night 
Seeking a friend to the wide world's end 
Loosing the path of light, 

51 



But the sun still shines in my window., 
My star, thru' the thick of the vine, 
•So my Hope shall NOT cease, till I must hold my 
Peace 
And sleep, to the end of Time." 

And Helios became abess ; Abelard. 

.Seemed n<?vv to reej), somewhat his toil's 

reward. 
But when he slept ''assassins 'round him worked, 
Poison his food, at ])rayer "confederates lurked" 

So that his fears becoming a disease. 
To fatal for ])oor physics to appease, 
He started off in an accustomed fright, 
Into the late and wild December night. 

Frozen they found him, nude and nearly dead 

Cientl\- revived him, laid him on white bed, 

Tn that retreat by concurrence most strange, 

Where Helious was high abess ! Now, the change 

U]X)n the a\bbe — raving and unshorn, 

Nuns knew him not and therefore could not 

mourn. 

So Helios goes with wonted courtesy 

To cheer her charge with prayer and sympathy. 



AFTER TWENTY YEARS: 

THE MEETING .' ! ! 

And Helios in a snow vvdiite habit came. 
And knelt before the fading senseless man; 
As bead by bead she fervently poured forth. 
Her whispering tones grew tremulous more and 
more. 

Fondly she lipped the silvered crusifix. 
And thinking still he slumbered, lightly kissed 
The brow inspired. He lifted up his eyes. 
Tlie large, frank eyes that Helios loved so well I 

52 



''(ireat ("lod ! Tliat saintly face she saw before — 
"Sometime, s()me])lace — she saw it — IT, WAS- 

HE! 
Age, nay Death was on him; \et he clamoured' 
To her arms. Twenty 3^ears bereaved and now!! 



■' Twas prophesised I'd meet thee by the w^a>', 
Thou in the pride of life and I all gray ; 
Friendless and famine pmched and stamed witlv 

tears, 
Deep lined and bending low and crazed witlv 
fears, 

BY Till-: THROAT! 
'T^>ut ere the dark duine docjmed me to moat 
1 lea])ed and seized the prophet by the throat : 
■'You lie!" I cried, "this must not, shall not be!" 
He sadlv smiling said: "\\;\IT. WATCH. AND' 

SKE."' 
"And I ha\c waited Helios: my heart was; 

torn 
Through agony and darkness. lUu the Joy 
Of Helois' nearness once again is mine!'* 
Now^ all the ]^ast was j^resent : the evenings 
At the gate, the starlight lake and Fulbert ! 
"If Helois were ^lY WIFl^l earth would be- 

heaven !" 
"The name of WTF'E" the abess straight rejoined' 
"May sound more holier to other ears 
Than the meek name of MISTRESS ; but for me. 
I was your sacrffice, — MY SOUL was yours! 
"But now 'tis Ciod's alone!" Fie held her fast 
The white nun shuddered, for she knew^ the* 

clutch 
Of death. Backward he sank, "Sister of God, 
He gasped, "Sister of God, Farewell !" 
His eyes grew fixed, then drooped and rose no 

more !'^ 

53 



The sobbing sister sealed them praising Gad 
'The world shall never know the tragedy 
That ends with thee. "Anon a footstep hushed 
Her lamentation, and covering up the face 
That face which haunted her through twenty 

years- 
Resumed her ^tem composure. Hark a knock^' 

'Come in"; a sister entered. Helios spoke 
In calm dispassionate tones, as If tlie corpse 
Were alien to her heart: *'Sx) Daughter write :— 
The ]\Ielonc()lia Patient Passed at nine\ 

The rest was silence, Alother Helios lived 
After her Abelard two decades more. 
And for her loved son gained a diocese. 
The people loved her, nay her frequent tears 
So sweetened her late years, they worshipped hef 

as saint. 
And suice they buried her, m Pans now,— ^ 
Though century and century have passed— 
About the abbee's tomb they still revere • 

^\ monument of saintlv martvrdom, 

FINIS 

YOU (?) 

YOU, that are misleading millions of men, 

When and where shall it end, say when ! 

AVhen nation's depleted, will you still -cry "We're 

cheated" ! 
Will YOU be satisfied then? 

The ANSWER to ten million and one ques- 
tions of Equity in this world is : Everything de- 
pends upon the individual Just try it out; Go 
to courts and LISTEN. 
54 



DRIXK CJP AXD HAVK AXOTHI'LR 

In the good old days we drew our pays 

And hustled down to Duffy's 
Though our taugh bunch could hound free lunch 

There was no "crust" like Snuffy's, 
With Snuff)- here and Snuffy there 
Soon ever\' plate on the bar was bare, 

In the good old days when we drew our pays' 

And we all met down in Duffy's. 

CHORUS 
So, drink-u]) and have another, brother, — 

This here round's on me,— 
Drink-up and all your troubles smother, 

Whatever the\' ma\- be ; 
When we're "bone dr\" we'll be dead lazy, 
And the whole dumb world will go clean crazy., 

P>ut, drink-up and have another. !)rother, 

This here round's on me. 

* * * 

Now, the bar -keep was a good old skate 
He'd rustle-on another plate, 

But Snuffy had a foot-pad's gall, 
He copped the hot dogs, ])late and all. 
Oh, I wish we had our pictures taken. 
Then the whole bar line with booze were shaken.. 
That would be something to recall, 
The days wdien we could have our ball, 
The good old da\'s when we all met down in 
Duffy's, 

JUST A. NUTLET. 
The kink rushed on to the stage in his shirt- 
sleeves : "Me Tools, me jools !" he bawled.. 
"Wlio tuck them jools?" 

"A I W'ho couder tuck them?" learnedly 
S5 



JB aMo-^'<U> (=4- lib ^JtMs^ SL 

He'5 Til CT^ ' 




BANK ON THE GRAXD OLD MAN 

I'ncle Sam was never known to be behind the 

times ; 
He's riii^lit iij) in st}le, fighting all the while; 
He's no waiter, a born hater of those Kultiir 
Crimes, 
He sails right at each autocrat, 
And IN each Ally chimes. 



For complete words and music of 



BANK ON THE GRAND OLD MAN" 



Kindly address the publishers. 



delincatedf ?) the lord chamberlain, as he blew 
the head of his can of beer in to the kink's face. 

"Me jools, me rubies, me rummies! me black 
diamond, tgg nuggot 14 karots, three bagers,. 
base ball bats, all gone all out! Take your base, 
base varlet 1 The curse of Canarsie upon you I 

HELL, XO! 

^'ou mustn't mind a little thing like that 
If inside \cHir fur coat sleeve you meet a rat ; 

And \(jn feel the icy cycle 

Of his naughty tickle, tickle, — 

(iirls, you mustn't mind a little thing like that. 

\'ou mustn't mind a little thing like that. 

If a sub\\a\- mob should smash your five spot hat; 

And you're picked-up feeling leaiy 

With both e\es all black and blear\', 

Boys, you mustn't mind a little thing like that. 

\(m mustn't mind a little thing like that, 

They ha\e boosted rent ten berries on your flat; 

And there aint an emptv dog house 

Not a stall to coop a field mouse, 

\\'h\ simplv pay, and put-up where you're at. 

You mustn't mind a little thing like that. 

If Pop comes home on pay night on a bat; 

With his pockets full of pickles, 

And a i)air of lonely nichols 

Whv cuss about a little thing like that I 

* ■; 

56 



, ^ Hell, No ; Be happy ! '- ! 

Keep 'em on the guess ; 
Times is tuff 
But chuck a bluff, 
Oh, my yes ! 

Now, Sister will Speak a Piece 

"T'was the night before Christmas and all 

through the house" 
'Twas the night of Vin's racket and all through 

the house 
Not a doggie was sober from "Brannigan" 

Straus. 



Listen, Listen, Listen, willya, Mabel 



Listen, listen, listen, will ya Mabel, 
I'll get a job termarrer if Lin able 
And ril buy a little Ford, 
(Maybe Po]^ wont ask for board) 
Come, listen, listen, listen, willva Mabel? 

Aint you goin-a marry me Mabel? 

Don't be sayin 1 smell like beer. 
I don't clutter the rugs 
Up, with cooties and bugs, — 

Stop fightin and marry me, dear. 

Listen, listen, listen, willya Mabel? 

I know my hat is waitin on the table, — 

Yes I know its gettin late 

An you're givin me the Gate, 

Aint you goin to listen to me Mabel ? 

The Three "D's" 
Three brilliant young scholars 

Dunce, Dozy, and Dumb, 
Sat watchin and waitin for summer to come. 

57 • 



Then ten frisky fellers- 
Slung a shower of spellers, 

And smashed-up the dreams of Dunce, Dozy and 
Dumb. 

Duncy, Dozy and Dumb, 
They couldn't remember the sum, 
So teacher said "Boys, 
Just cut-out the noise 
While I make their ham-hides hum." 
But who could blame Dozy for bein so dumb 
For Duncy was dummer than Doz\- was dumb 
As for the Three D^s 
Why these boys are the cheese 
Thex're covered with fly-bites and smothered 
with tieas. 

"When in the course of human events" — a lady is 
flee-bittcn ! 

Xecker's Rival. 

(Until veiw recently w^e were used to see the 
highly inviting FUNERAL BARGAINS of 
Necker on the bill-boards: With six coaches, 
tent and camp stools, etc., $49.49, special. Many 
a thrifty housewife would gladly DIE to grab 
such a BAR(jAIN. But Necker had a rival, way, 
way back, — wxll you'll have to ask the late 
Charley Lamb, — WHEN, — to whom we extend 
all ai)ologies.) 

Here's the inducement: You'll fall for it, sure. 

(Reading) 

Burial Society. 

A favorable o])portunity, now offered to any 
[)erson of either sex, who would wish to be 
buried in a genteel manner by paying one shilling 
entrance and two pence per week for the benefit 
of stock. Members to be free (?) in six months. 

58 




The money lu be paid to Air. Aliddleton at the 
SIGN of the First and LAST, Stonecutter street, 
and Ghost Market. The deacesed to be furnish- 
ed as follows : 

A strong elm "kimona" trimmed with raven 
cheesy cloth, and furnished with two rows all 
round, close drove BEST HOIB NAILS, a hand- 
some plate of inscription. ''ANC^tEL ABOVE 
and DEVTL BEL0\\ ." and four pair hand- 
some wrought iron handles. The coffin to be 
well pitched (b\- our grave diggers) a handsome 
red shroud, cap, bells and ])illow ! 

For mourners' use, ! handsome \elvet shimmie 
3 Vermillion smocks, three carmine crape hat 
bands, three picture hats and six pairs silk hose, 
short style. L^se of fine jazz band, a doll to 
beat the same; also burial fees to be paid if not 
exceeding one guinea (meaning wop). 

(All jokes aside, friends it was up to Necker 
to put the ''sense" in common sense funerals. 
Why do the poor go into "hock" burying their 
dead?) 

59 



C()ne\- Island ! 

W hat ha\en or haunt of pleasure on earth 
Compares with this isle of infinite mirth ? 

Where else such summer crowds? Alluring isle, 
What sultry da\s you airly beguile ! 

What merry masses i)romenade your strand 
JJathe in your surf, bask on your silver sand. 

What numbers, t(jo, forgetful of the night 
I^namoured with \(jur shores, greet dawning 
light ! 

wSojourn her A\enue. and there are we 
Swayed l)y a surging throng of strolling glee. 

Surf A\enue, "dear C\)ney's ( ireat White Way" 
Is thus inhabited by night and daw 

Her I'owery, too, is peoi)le-pressed. and there, 
l.ike old Xew ^'ork's historic thorofare. 

Small showmen llock. and (|ucans in tawdr\ lights 
Shout Dixie skits before lime-glaring lights. 

The liowery ends, and there looms Steeplechase, 
Xo human foot ere set on gladder ]^lace ! 

W ilh mad-cap whirls and rides and slides, ahum. 
Vast crowds from Newark, and from Harlem, 
came. 

And there is Henderson's whose Times' Square 

shows 
l^ach hrst-night fan and vnudi-haunter knows. 

And here's great Luna, once called Sea-lion 
Park — 

60 



Ivenewing \uutli with w il\ ride and lark. 

Half -up that narrow Coney Street, he stands. 
The busy Bostwick, he who reads Time's sands. 

Renowned resort! Oft visited with fire 
Undaunted, rose each time did you aspire, 

.Not to restore what fire would efface 
But o'er the ruin to rear a fairer place ! 

-Right proudh', then, her banners arc unfurled 
An ISLh2 it is to recreate the world.' 



THK STRAXCiE CONFESSION 
Come hither friend 

Bid all unkindness gone 
Let old grudge end 

And hollow pride ])ass (jn, 

-Here is my hand. 

Blush not to thrill yuur grasp 
Like brothers, band, 

J. est foes our last, we gasp. 

Life is but brief 

Too brief for thoughtless ire 
Like withered leaf 

Ere long, we're dust entire. 

Deep in my breast 

With lips comj)ressed I bore 
A tale — ^\ou've guessed, — 

Which now can bear no more. 

Forth from my breast 

Would 1 this tale unfold, 
None can I rest 

Till I this tale have told: 

61 



Faithful We {)rovc(I 

So lend a faithful ear 
If you be moved 

Let fall the unmasked tear. . . 
Recall the times 

When we would walk for hours 
'Mid quiet climes 

Far from commercial tow'rs. 
Recall the da\' 

Stirred by a hauntin,q- thought 
You sped away 

Ref ore I could sa\ aught. 
As suddenly 

F)id \()u your steps retrace 
.\nd present 1}' 

Resume your former pace. 
Leading me on 

To nearby hill's indent 
You thereujx^n 

Revealed strange intent. 
A history 

Of one that you knew well 
A secrec\ 

^'ou did proceed to (ell. 
To ne'er a one 

I>etwixt the earth and skies 
Save me alone 

Was tale disclosed likewise. 
With ardor tense 

Your narrative increased 
In dread sus])ense 

1 yearned to be released. 
For I was dumb 

With sobs that choke the sj)cech 
No words would come 

Though I might Christ beseech. 

62 



W'lierefore \vas this? 

Why should I thus bemoan? 
The answer's this : 

]\)iu' tale might be luy ozmi. 

The crisis came 

When with a reckless thrust 
With eyes aflame 

Your pipe flung to the dust ! 

And lo ! 
"The history 

Of one that you knew well 
The mystery 

I'hat 1 have heard you tell !" 

The beads of sweat 

Upon your brows stood out 
W ith passion wet, — 

In high ])iched xoice \ou shout 

"'T am that son 

Of sea weed, salt and gold, 
I am the one, — 

]\lv history is told !" 



** 



This secret you at random did im])art 
Repent not in your moments more discreet 

■"Though you perhaps may bear me hard at heart 
Your confidence I swear I'll ne'er repeat. 

Nay, in my coffin, with me, is it sealed 
There to remain, and never be revealed. 
63 




Hie Lftti 



'>Itloise C*l./d cf His O* 



ECHOES OF EVENING BELLS. 



THE MIRACLE OF A MOTHER'S HEART 
A FABLE. 

PART ONE 

It was May-time in the morning 

And he rose from pleasant dreams 

And the sun stole in his window 
All in \ellow, golden streams. 

Simjile, trusting was the fellow, 

Hearty, brawny only son, 
Of a gentle, ancient lady 

Whom they called "Good mother ]')run." 

Xow he sits down to a repast 

O'f white wine, wild fruit and bread 

And he thanked God for his bounty 
Thanking mother this he said : 

"This humble dish, by loving hands prepared 
Delights me more than I had banquets shared. 

r^rom plates of gold where i)roud distainful laird 
To mingle fellowship with feast not cared. 

Today I leave thee mother but ha\ e cheer 
For I in s])irit always will be near. 

I\I\- journey ends when two short months shall tiee 
Meantime my thoughts will be alone of thee." 

Then he kissed his mother fondly 

Blessing him she gave consent 
With her arms outstretched toward him 

Young Brun said "Farewell" and went. 

And as he sauntered forth he heard 

The music of the morning bird. 

The measured moan and melancholy roar 
Of vast Atlanta, crashing on the shore! 

64 



PART TWO 

Oh, if hell in shape of heaven 

E'er the form of woman could take, 

Never did it seem so certain 
Surely there was no mistake. 

Fair was she as radient angel 

And her form so serpentine 
Had the symmetry of A^enus, 

Venus scarcely so suhlime. 

When the rustic's eyes beheld her 

l)lasted was his future life 
For he loved her unto madness 

And would have her for his wife. 

I>ut the \ampire onl_\- taunted, 

Tourtered the i^oor simple swain 
All his jM-axers [)ro\oked her laughter 

All intreaties were in xriin. 

I'll proxe my loxe, what will nou ha\e me do, 

ril cross the ocean in a toy canoe. 

ril venture in a cage with hungry, lions 

1 will descend into the deadly mines. 

Fll gladly die for \ou tomorrow morn 

For death is be'ter than ury true knes scorn. 

Up spoke the demon fair of Satin's school 
'T take thee at thy word thou rash young fool. 
I do not send thee forth to mine, nor storm, 
But if you want me, this you must perform ; 
This da}- two weeks you'll find me near this log 
Bring to me then, for my mean servant's dog. 
Your mother's heart, you hear, your mother's 

heart 
For my low scullion's dog! Nay, do not start. 
You want me, eh ? then instantly begone ! 
On thy success this bargain stands upon." 

65 



And as he staggered forth he heard 
The croaking of the midnight bird 

The woeful groan, most meloncholy roar 
Of vast Atlanta crashing on the shore! 

PART THREE 
It was May time in the morning 

When he came three long years late 
And the dear old white haired woman 

Came to meet him at the gate. 

But he broke from her embraces 

And he seized her by the arm, 
And the feeble, frail old lady 

In amazement and alarm, 

Cried "^ly son, have you been drinking? 

Come inside you will grow calm, 
I am sure for poor old mother 

You intend no dreadful harm !" 

"Mother I ha\e come to kill thee 
Ask not wJien, nor hoiv, nor 7C'//y 

Pray! For ere the sun arises, 
^lother, thou shalt surel\' (He ! 

The deed was done ! and oli the \\oeful cries 
W'ould make stones weep, and blood start from 

the skies. 
The matter is scarce fitting to im])art, 
The loved-carzed youth liacked-forth His 

Mother's heart! 

Anrl running with the ])rize he heard, 
The screaching of the midniglit bird, 

The mournful moan and most unearthly roar, 
Of mad Atlanta crashing on the shore! 

m 1 ;*' 



He stumbled, down fell with the ghastly prize 
And fainting, full of fear, he could not rise. 

Behold, O listen, for dead hearts will speak, 
For voice is given to the murdered meek : 

Hark, the Heart, in tones imploring 
Spoke, "Dear son, yoiire hurt I fear. 

Rise, and I will soothe thy bruises. 
Darling, I zvill bring thee, cheer." 

Conscious now and starting wildly 

He cried out, "Unatural Son ! 
Have I slain the saint that bore me 

For a f iend ! I'm done ! I'm done ! 

"Revenge, vengence ! on the fair fiend, 

On this beautious she of hell, 
Let me die revenged upon her 1 

Sadl\' then my story telL 



67 



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